[OTA] We Are Gathered Here | The Fox-Kattalakis Wedding

[headfollowheart]

A few things had gone wrong, honestly. There had been some confusion in the morning when they’d arrived to decorate the church - a few bouquets on the altar, some green and blue ribbons twined around a few of the posts - and it’d been locked. She’d managed to leave Spade Castle with her dress, veil, the coin from his mother strung on a thin leather thong, the emerald silk sash and Victor’s ring - but of all things, she’d managed to leave her shoes in their box in the closet, and Chives had had to go back for that. Hadyn looked a little green from his adventure shanghaiing Victor with Ben and Elisha, her cousin Sara had in usual Sara fashion managed to break the heel on her left shoe. Nerves finally hit as Chives was braiding her hair, and by the time the veil was settled over the smooth curls, her nails had left indents in her palms.

In the end, though, it was pretty much perfect. Two of her closest friends preceded her down the aisle in soft blue dresses with forget-me-nots in their braided hair and small posies in their hands. She’d walked towards her fiance on her brother’s arm with her hands full of spring flowers, and after the words were said and Victor lifted the veil, they were married. It only felt a little different than before, Zoe thought as their brief kiss ended. But it was different; she was Zoe Fox.

Zoe Fox knew, of course, that Victor Fox would have preferred them to just slip back to their apartment - no big party, no flowing wine and hors d'oeuvres - but she’d wanted something. And he’d given her carte blanche in the end, really; she’d chosen the small reception room that opened out into the Castle gardens, she’d picked the combination of hyacinths, hydragea, and lily of the valley for the table arrangements, the Greek-flavored menu of spanakopita, wild green and strawberry salad, linguine primavera and herb-encrusted lamb. She’d pored over cake designs until she finally picked a vanilla bean cake with strawberry puree filling, decorated in vanilla buttercream. She’d pruned the list of friends, family and acquaintances who might be expected to be invited to the wedding reception until they numbered barely fifty.

Under the strict supervision of Chives, of course the reception looked perfect, she thought as they arrived, and she smiled as she slipped her hand into Victor’s arm and the full skirt of her dress swirled against both of their legs. Perfect, though perfect didn’t matter quite so much to her right now.

Comments

[oneirophiliac]

Is that even a question that needs to be asked, sir. What with the Grin he's helped put there. It's as if he's doubting his effort.

Whatever, it's not shaking that Grin off. "Of course I am. It's so beautiful, and not one person I'd want to avoid here." Except the groom, and even he didn't really count any more.

[piqued]

Is he not Allowed to Want to hear properly, in the midst of Everything, he's made his own Fiancee happy? Surely he must be.

"An' 'm glad, Annie." Glad enough to Hazard something of a spin rather than simple moving back and forth. "Incredibly."

[oneirophiliac]

She's even delighted enough that her mind's off her feet, and that spin isn't tripped up in any way. He doesn't mind that she's laughing, does he? Because that's what a buildup of positive emotion does.

[piqued]

He absolutely does not. She's beautiful when she laughs, when she's absolutely full of something Joyful. She doesn't mind if his own small, happy noise like a Laugh gets a brief look of utter Confusion flitting across his own face, does she? Or if he fixes it by dropping his forehead down, carefully, against hers for a moment?

[oneirophiliac]

It's a little sweet that he barely knows how to laugh. Only a little. Fortunately, before any kind of outward expression of that can happen, their foreheads are together and her smile hasn't the chance to change.

They can Breathe and Sway in the middle of the dance floor until the song ends. Maybe even until the next song.

[piqued]

"'ve to work, Annie," he murmurs as the song shifts, although he doesn't remotely begin to actually Let Go of her. "I'll... see you tonight, mm?"

Or for another few minutes here on the dance floor. Preferably Both.

[oneirophiliac]

She presses a kiss to his cheek as they take a long, meandering route to the edge of the dancefloor. "I'll wait up for you, okay? Go and make sure no one's gonna bring disaster."

[piqued]

"An' I will, y' be certain of it." The day would continue to Perfection. There would be No Detail out of place.

But first? One more Kiss. Just to get the Smile back on his face before he had to spin away again.